


Hacker

by musicofthenight



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale is a Tease, Happy Ending, Kidnapping, M/M, Masturbation, Stiles is into it, not canon compliant from half way through 1x09, peter is a creep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:28:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23836903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicofthenight/pseuds/musicofthenight
Summary: A re-imagining of the  "Cousin Miguel" scene from 1x09. Derek realises that the quickest way to get Danny to help them is to turn on the sex appeal. Stiles appreciates the show more than he would care to admit.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 34
Kudos: 288





	1. Chapter 1

“Oh come on, Danny! Please?”

Stiles breathed out in exasperation as Danny continued to shake his head.

“I came over to do lab work. That’s what lab partners _do_ , Stiles. I’m not tracing the text for you, no way.”

Stiles sat back in his chair, eyes wide, biting his lip. Danny was the only one he knew who could trace the text that had lured Allison to the school that night. Without his help, Stiles was out of ideas.

Danny’s eyes flicked over to stare at Derek, who was probably looming menacingly or staring intimidatingly or something similar. He was usually doing something vaguely threatening.

“Who’s that again?”, Danny asked, and Stiles raised his eyebrows at his tone of voice. People usually sounded suspicious, wary, or even downright terrified when Derek was around. But there was a hint of something different in Danny’s question.

Stiles turned around to see Derek reclining lazily on his chair, looking back at them. Well, looking at Danny, specifically. With what looked like a spark of interested in his eyes.

“That,” Stiles scrambled for a name, any name, God why hadn’t he come up with a name already? Why was Derek even in here? He could have been waiting on the roof, which would have saved a lot of trouble and-

“Miguel,” said Derek smoothly. And then he _smiled_ at Danny. Stiles’ eyes bugged out. He didn’t think he had even seen Derek smile before, but holy shit it was something to behold. Stiles was fixated, mouth falling open in surprise. Derek stood up and crossed the room, moving purposefully towards them and holding a hand out towards Danny, who shook it reverently. Stiles’ gaze flicked towards Danny. He was looking up into Derek’s chiseled face, his lips slightly parted. Derek smiled down at him again, with something vaguely predatory in his eyes.

A beat passed. Stiles swallowed and tried not to let it show that on the inside, his brain was running a repeated chant of _what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck._

“Miguel,” Danny tried weakly, eyes wide. “Why do you have blood on your shirt?”

Derek shrugged, said “nosebleeds”, and peeled the shirt off in what certainly looked like a slow tease, revealing his incredible abs and toned chest as he went.

Danny and Stiles were silent. Derek smirked. He tossed the bloodied shirt into the corner of the room. It didn’t even occur to Stiles to complain.

Derek sat down on the bed behind them, letting his knees fall open just enough to be suggestive. Danny was looking pretty flushed by now, and Stiles was vaguely aware that his heartbeat was doing creative things inside his chest.

Derek licked his lips. “Can you really hack computers, Danny? That’s…” Derek’s gaze dipped to give Danny’s body a lewd one-over. “…Hot.”

Stiles coughed, staring at Derek with eyes even wider than Danny’s. Danny just nodded slowly, looking transfixed. Derek’s lips curved slowly into another wolfish smile. He leaned forwards to rest a hand on Danny’s shoulder. Danny’s lips parted.

“Show me?”

Danny nodded again, turned, and started typing. Within a matter of minutes, they had their answer. Stiles was only vaguely jolted out of his – of whatever this was – when _Melissa McCall, Beacon Hills Hospital_ flashed up on the screen.

He made eye contact with Derek, and then regretted it. He still felt a flushed from that little display. Clearly, it had been tactical, and entirely for Danny’s benefit, but there had been something about Derek sitting half naked on his bed that had set his blood racing and quickened his breaths. He tried very hard not to think about what that meant.

“I’m gonna need to borrow Stiles to go check this out, Danny,” Derek said, and if Stiles’ mouth went dry at the low rumble of his voice, nobody needed to know. “Do you mind?”

Danny stammered out “uh, no, I guess we can reschedule –“ before Derek was flashing that suggestive smile again, and his voice dipped even lower to murmur “Thank you”.

Danny’s eyes flicked between Derek and Stiles for a moment before he grabbed his things and headed for the door.

“See you at school,” Stiles managed in a strangled voice, and then the door closed, and it was just him and a very shirtless Derek stood very close together in his bedroom. Stiles looked at the ceiling. _This is fine,_ he told himself. _This is totally fine._

When he finally managed to look at Derek, that hungry expression was gone, replaced by the usual closed-off scowl. It was almost a relief.

“Get yourself sorted out, I’ll be outside in the car. Five minutes.”

Stiles opened his mouth to ask what he meant, then closed it. There was no point in denying the tightness of his trousers, not when Derek could probably smell arousal and could definitely hear heartbeats and oh my God he was never going to live this down. He nodded mutely, and Derek turned to leave through the window. Stiles closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, he was alone.

He sat down on his bed, exhaling heavily. Derek fucking Hale. He hadn’t even taken a shirt with him.

_Maybe he has a spare in the Camaro_ , he thought blearily to himself. Probably. An image of Derek sat in his car, still shirtless, flashed into Stiles’ mind unbidden and he sucked in a breath.

Five minutes, Derek had said. Had he expected him to jump in a cold shower, or…?

Before he could finish the thought, Stiles had undone the button of his jeans, and tugged down the zipper, sliding his hand down to grasp himself. He breathed out heavily at the contact, eyes fluttering closed and he began to move his hand. It didn’t take long, not with his mind full of images of Derek, slowly peeling off his shirt, Derek biting his lip seductively, Derek’s knees falling apart as he sat on Stiles’ bed.

If Stiles grunted Derek’s name as he came, well, that was his secret.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Stiles go to check out the hospital.  
> Things do not go to plan.

Stiles breathed heavily as he hurriedly cleaned himself up, barely letting himself think about what he had just done and exactly how many lines he had crossed. Once he was pretty sure that werewolf super senses wouldn’t be able to detect any giveaway smells, he snuck out to where the sleek black car was parked and slid into the passenger seat, avoiding Derek’s gaze as he strapped himself in. Derek started the car without a word. Stiles’ gaze wandered to where Derek’s hands were clasping the wheel far more tightly than was necessary. He swallowed. _Talk about awkward silences_.

When Stiles eventually worked up the courage to look in the rough direction of Derek’s face, he grimaced at the red tinge to Derek’s cheeks. God, Derek must be really angry. Why else would he have gone so red that Stiles could see even through the darkness of the car? Hopefully, Derek would never bring it up, and Stiles could lock the memory of this evening into a box deep, deep down in the back of his mind, and no one would have to think about it anymore. Stiles looked away from Derek’s profile to gaze out of the window instead.

The scenery of Beacon Hills slid past until eventually they were pulling up outside the hospital.

“I should go in,” Stiles began, “since I’m the one who isn’t a wanted criminal and all.”

He risked a glance at Derek, who was shaking his head.

“It’s late. No one will see me. I’m going.”

His tone was gruff, and Stiles felt chastened, slipping down in the seat and drumming his fingers against his leg.

“Don’t be long,” he muttered, and Derek only nodded before disappearing into the darkness.

Stiles sighed. At least with Derek gone he could breathe a little easier. God, he had really gotten a boner from Derek’s attempt to seduce Danny. Stiles let out an embarrassed moan, head falling back against the seat behind him. Because _of course_ this had happened to him. It’s not like Derek had been playing fair, what with all those searing looks and the goddamn _striptease_ he’d apparently deemed necessary. Honestly, he was so attractive anyway that he could definitely have gotten Danny to comply without giving Stiles a glimpse of what he’d never quite realised he’d always wanted. But no, Derek fucking Hale had to go and confirm Stiles’ questions about his own sexuality.

Stiles worried his lower lip with his teeth as he pictured the scene again, but this time he let his imagination run wild. This time, there was no-one else in the room but him and Derek, and the show was all for him.

He was just replaying the slow drag of Derek’s shirt as it slid up to display his frankly sinful abs, when he jolted in his seat, eyes flying open.

_No fantasising about Derek in Derek’s car! Bad Stiles!_

His fingers started to tap incessantly against his thigh as he tried to think about unsexy things, boring things, anything at all that wasn’t hormone-driven lust for the brooding, grumpy werewolf currently investigating the Melissa McCall’s work computer. His fingers moved from his thigh to tap against the dashboard. God, waiting in the car was boring.

He was just starting to worry that Derek had been gone a little too long when a body smashed through a fourth-floor window of the hospital and landed with a sickening thud on the ground in front of the car.

Stiles froze. That, he thought, was probably not good.

“Derek?” he whispered, then slapped a hand over his mouth. After an excruciating moment, the figure dragged itself to its feet. Stiles tried to regulate his breathing as he peered through the darkness, trying desperately to pick out any features. He felt his pulse quicken as a man came into view, stumbling under one of the streetlights.

It wasn’t Derek.

Stiles kept his hand firmly over his mouth to hold back the stream of swear words currently running through his head. His heart was pounding now and he could smell his own sweat on the air even as he tried to stave off the panic threatening to engulf him.

_Holy shit that’s another werewolf oh my God it’s the Alpha, fucking hell why is he coming towards me oh my GOD –_

And then the car door was being wrenched open and a clawed hand was dragging Stiles out by the fabric of his hoodie. Stiles was vaguely aware of the sound of sirens on the night air as he stared, wide-eyed, into the man’s face. The man’s eyes narrowed with interest and a dangerous smirk appeared on his face.

“And who might you be?” he asked, his voice faux-friendly. “Pretty thing like you, sitting in Derek’s car, smelling like you’ve been up to all sorts of dirty things?”

Stiles may or may not have let out a high-pitched noise of distress at that, and the man laughed, dragging Stiles closer towards him even as Stiles scrabbled to get away. Stiles opened his mouth to shout for Derek, but the man snarled, his fangs sliding into view, and Stiles closed his mouth again. The sirens were getting closer now.

“That’s more like it,” the man was back to his creepy smirk. “Well, since my nephew doesn’t seem to be feeling particularly understanding this evening, I might just have to…borrow you, hmm? See if that will change his mind.”

_Oh God oh God oh God oh God_

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” he babbled, “Derek really doesn’t like me that much, I really don’t think that will persuade-”

“Be quiet,” the man snarled, and Stiles sucked in a breath, closing his eyes in a vain attempt to hide his own fear. “Now, are you going to come quietly, or do I need to silence you myself?”

Stiles opened his eyes again, and was absolutely about to promise to be quiet when his gaze landed a familiar silhouette bursting out of the hospital doors.

A desperate hope gripped him, but when Stiles tried again to shout Derek’s name, he had barely opened his mouth when the alpha brought his fist crashing down on Stiles’ temple, and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave me a comment, they make my day :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is taken by Peter. Derek gets possessive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that there is some sexual content at the end of this chapter (waheeyy) and this takes place in Season 1 so Stiles is technically underage, if you don't like that then maybe this isn't the fic for you.   
> Hope you enjoy!

Oh, God, his head hurt. Stiles winced as he slowly dragged himself back to consciousness, gradually becoming aware that he was slumped in a chair, and his wrists were taped together behind his back. This, he thought blearily, was unlikely to end well.

“Ah, so sleeping beauty is finally awake”, came the man’s voice from far-too close by.

_…shit._

Stiles forced his eyes open, his gaze landing immediately on the main looming over him.

“Now then,” he continued, a predatory smile on his face, “let’s behave ourselves this time, hm? As long as you do what you’re told, there is no reason why you should be harmed.” The man smiled down at Stiles, who swallowed, nodding his head slowly.

“Good,” the man continued quietly, as though soothing a spooked animal, which wasn’t surprising considering he could definitely hear how erratically Stiles’ heart was beating. Unfortunately, his tone was bordering more on _I’m going to murder you and wear your skin_ rather than anything actually calming.

“Why don’t we have a little chat until my nephew arrives, hm?”

Stiles must have reacted to that, because the man laughed, tilting up Stile’s face until he couldn’t avoid those staring eyes.

“Yes, yes, he’ll be here, don’t you worry. I’m sure that he’ll be halfway here already, especially to reclaim a prize as pretty as you. What’s your name?”

Stiles swallowed, hesitating only a second before the man’s eyes narrowed and he stuttered, “it’s Stiles.”

The man looked unimpressed.

“And you’re…” Stiles searched in his memory for the name Derek had given him. “Peter,” he croaked. “Peter Hale”.

Peter smirked.

“Very good, Stiles,” he said, placing a frankly uncomfortable amount of emphasis on Stile’s name. Stiles shivered. “And – do indulge me – how did you come to have this little…liaison…with Derek?”

Stiles’ throat was suddenly very dry.

“We met in the woods,” he offered weakly. Peter looked far too interested in _that_ for Stiles’ liking. He moved closer, placing both hands on Stiles’ shoulders. Stiles leaning as far back as he could against his restraints, heartbeat speeding up to what certainly felt like dangerous levels, tilting his head to the side in his failed attempt to put more space between himself and threatening figure.

He realised his mistake a second too late, as Peter exhaled softly.

“Look at you,” he whispered. “Baring your neck for me. So very pretty for me, hm? No wonder you caught Derek’s attention.”

Peter leaned in close, and Stiles closed his eyes in horror, trying to block out the fact that Peter was definitely scenting his neck right now and _oh my god he should have listened to Danny, they could have been doing lab work right now instead of getting sniffed by Derek’s creepy uncle –_

A snarl cut through Stiles’ panicked thoughts. Hope shot through him as his eyes snapped open and landed on Derek, bursting through the door, claws at the ready.

“Derek,” he whispered, without quite realising that he’d spoken. Annoyance flashed briefly across Peter’s face before he assumed what he probably imagined to be a welcoming smile.

“I’m surprised it took you this long to retrieve your plaything, Derek,” he teased. Derek’s scowl deepened, lip curled up in fury. “And such a pretty one, too. A little young, perhaps, but I’m sure that has its advantages.”

Stiles yelped as Peter laid a hand on his neck, a light touch with just the hint of a threat. “Calm yourself, nephew, I only want to talk tonight,” Peter said conversationally, punctuating his sentence with a quick squeeze that made Stiles choke.

Stiles risked a glance at Derek, whose eyes were zeroed in on Stiles’ exposed neck. Derek was breathing heavily, shoulders tensed, but after a few moments his claws retracted, and he stepped forward slowly.

“There now, was that so hard?” Peter practically sang, and Stiles felt himself tense with annoyance.

“What do you want, Peter?” Derek said, his voice low and angry, but controlled. “What do you want with him?”

Peter chuckled, squeezing Stiles’ neck again. Stiles struggled to keep his lips tightly sealed. The last thing he needed was to run his mouth and somehow make the situation even worse.

“Well, as I’m sure you can imagine, there are all sorts of things I’d like to do with him.” Stiles shuddered at Peter’s suggestive tone. “But what I really want, Derek, is your understanding. Tell me that you understand that Laura’s death was nothing but a tragic accident, and your little chew-toy here is free to go.”

Stiles’ eyes were wide as he watched Derek. His brows were furrowed, his eyes stormy. A tense moment passed. Stiles held very still.

“Fine,” Derek bit out. “I understand.”

The hand resting on Stiles’ neck suddenly grew claws, and Stiles sucked in a panicked breath, until Peter moved to rip through the restraints. He rubbed his wrists, looking warily at Peter as he staggered to his feet. Derek crossed the room, grabbed Stiles by the shoulder, and marched him out, his grip painfully tight.

“Pleasure to meet you, Stiles,” Peter called out behind them, “I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other.”

It turned out that Peter’s little hideaway wasn’t that far from the hospital. Derek’s hand stayed firmly on Stiles’ shoulder as they made their way back to where the Camaro was parked. Neither of them said a word. When they reached the car, Derek wrenched open the passenger door, and Stiles gingerly slid inside, wincing as the door slammed behind him. A moment later, Derek was in the driver’s seat.

Stiles bit his lip. He waited until Derek had turned the key and pulled away, and then he couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“You know he totally killed her to get the Alpha powers,” he blurted out, looking anywhere but at Derek.

“Yes, Stiles, I’m aware of that, thank you,” Derek said. His voice sounded off, which Stiles supposed wasn’t surprising considering that his comatose uncle had suddenly come back to life after however many years.

They drove on a little further in silence, until finally Stiles couldn’t help himself.

“So you, what, swore allegiance to him? Have you pledged your loyalty to him now? What do we do?” His voice rose higher and he gestured vaguely with his hands. “He bit Scott!”

“I _know_ ,” Derek snarled, pulling over on the side of the street and stopping the car so he could turn and look properly at Stiles. “What would you have had me do, huh? Let him kill you?”

Stiles looked away.

“Let him keep scenting you, like you’re his? Is that what you wanted, Stiles?”

Stiles swallowed. “I’m _not_ his,” he mumbled.

“No,” Derek agreed. Stiles looked up at his face. “No, you’re not.”

And Stiles didn’t know when the mood in the car had changed, but suddenly Derek was kissing him, and it was furious and passionate, and he was being lifted out of his seat and onto Derek’s lap. And it only took his brain a second to catch up before he was kissing Derek back for all he was worth, crowding in as close as he could, wanting to get closer still.

Derek’s hand moved up Stiles’ back to land gently on the back of his neck, and Stiles relaxed into it, loving the feel of it there, claiming and possessive. Derek was clearly pleased by his reaction, and tilted his head to nip at Stiles’ neck, covering up what remained of Peter’s scent with his own. Stiles moaned at the sensation, caught between where Derek’s hand was gripping the back of his neck and where Derek’s teeth were teasing his sensitive skin.

“Yeah, Derek, oh my god,” he breathed, and he felt Derek’s whole body tense. He opened his eyes, panting heavily. “Derek?”

Derek was flushed, pupils blown wide, lips swollen. It was a hell of a sight.

“I-” Derek tried, then he swallowed. “I liked it when you said my name. Before.”

And it took Stiles a second to realise what he meant. He sucked in a breath, horrified. “Oh my god, you heard that? You werewolves and your freaky hearing, I swear to God-“

Derek shut him up with another kiss. Stiles was only too happy to be distracted. He rocked against Derek, moaning at the sensation.

“Okay,” he moaned, “I’m yours, Derek. All yours.”

Derek made a choked noise, tangling his fingers through Stiles’ short hair, pressing them even closer together. “Say it again,” he growled, and Stiles felt almost faint with arousal as he let himself be kissed senseless.

“Derek, I’m yours, I’m-”

He was cut off as Derek moaned.

“Mine,” he agreed, “You gonna come for me again, Stiles? You gonna say my name? You gonna tell me who you belong to?”

Stiles whined, the thrumming in his veins mounting as he rutted helplessly against Derek.

“Say it,” Derek rumbled.

“I-” Stiles panted, words cut off as Derek shifted their positions and suddenly the pressure was just right, and he was so close – “I-”

“That’s it, come for me, Stiles,” Derek commanded, and he bit down on Stiles’ neck.

Stiles gasped as he came, sounds pouring out of him, and he was pretty sure Derek’s name was in there somewhere, and then Derek was moaning too, tensing beneath him.

Stiles went limp against Derek’s chest, panting as he caught his breath. He vaguely wondered where Derek had pulled over to, but a peak out the window told him they were on a quiet road. That was good. Getting arrested for public indecency wasn’t high on his list of priorities.

It might have just been the hazy afterglow endorphins, but Stiles reached up to press a tiny kiss to Derek’s neck.

“You’re mine, too,” he mumbled. Derek’s hand came to rest gently at the nape of his neck again.

He peeked up at Derek’s face. Derek was smiling down at him, looking amused more than anything.

“If you say so,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, please please leave me a comment if you liked it, I'm trying to sit my uni finals amidst all this chaos and could really do with the support <3   
> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
